A Pharaoh's Gate
by Youkai-no-Natasha
Summary: A young girl with bright, golden eyes, and soft silver hair lives a double life. One as a slaved tavern keeper, the other as a thief, a Robin Hood hero. When one day, while assisting her sister, she made a mistake she would dearly hope she would never repeat again. Atem/OC


A black blur whizzed past the marketplace, a small burlap sack filled with sour vegetables tucked in the "thief's" arm. "Stop! Thief!" _Crap.._ The black cloaked figure pushed through the thick crowds faster, evading the quickly alerted guards. About a block later, the figure swooped into an alley, and hopped over the dry stone wall, slipping past hanging clothes and sheets, and landing at the edge of a smaller neighborhood.

Slightly panting, the figure swooped into the house across from the wall, closing the door quickly, and tossing the bag into a cabinet, throwing the cloak into a crate, and tying on an apron, just as the doors slammed, open. The girl looked up with feigned curiosity, holding a platter of empty beer mugs while the palace guards started to flow in. They looked completely exhausted, and it filled the girl with nothing but smug satisfaction. "Can I get you boys anything?" She asked sweetly, the head guard offering her a tired smile, before he collapsed into a wooden stool with a sigh, "A round should do it.." The girl nodded, and whipped up on for each slumped guard, fourteen filled glasses almost instantly being downed, before a pouch of coins hit the table, and they attempted to leave.

A few minutes after the door had closed, the girl sighed, and turned her head to see the door to the upstairs rooms open, and a younger boy peeked through, "Nata.. Are they gone?" The girl rolled her eyes, and tossed him the bag, "Take it, hurry. Before they come back for another round.." "I don't like how they flirt with you.." the orphan pouted grumpy, then peeked inside the bag with wide eyes, "You got this much?" "Hurry!" Natasha said a bit impatiently, "Need I remind you that no one has eaten anything since noon yesterday?" The boy nodded with a small smile, and turned on his heel, rushing out the back door with a fast sprint, to the orphanage about six more blocks down.

Natasha sighed, and scrubbed the last of the mugs clean with a dark glare. _Why is it that they give up after one wall every time?!_ She put the glass away, and turned with a raised brow as a girl in her early teens banged open the door with a squeal, rushing towards the upstairs room with a grin. Natasha didn't even bother to stare at the door, and went back to sweeping the floor, when two more people came in, a man and a woman, both in their late thirties. "Nata!" the man snapped, the woman sitting with a posh smile beside him. "Yes, sir?" Natasha asked in polite monotone, staring at the floor near his feet for what he considered to be respect. "You're taking Aziza to the festival!" He left no room for argument, though Natasha didn't expect one. Her father always was an authoritatively lead man. Aziza was her sister, and even though she was a young teenager, she was never around long enough to notice the bruises on her older sister's arms and legs, or the bloody bandages that never seemed to stop filling the trashbin upstairs.

Aziza rushed down the steps in her best clothes for the parade, or rather, more of a gathering for the town. Apparently the prince was to come for some Ra forsaken reason. Natasha followed behind the girl in her normal ratty pants, shirt, shoes, and her ratty beige cloak with tattered ends. She finally caught up to the girl with bouncy brown curls, and was about to give her a light scolding, when all of the people around her started to bow, and murmured in thanks. She immediately got on her knees with her sister, her cloak's hood over her head, hiding her freakish white hair-as her "parents" put it- out of the public eye. She watched as several stomping feet started to pass, and she looked up, seeing the formally dressed guards surrounding the prince for the most part, though they all wore the same white pants and shirts, they each were in a different position of defence. The one directly behind the prince caught her eye almost immediately. His hood was pulled over his head, and he was watching everyone in the crowd calculatively, though, it wasn't suspiciously, like the other men. His was more... Shit, the silverette thought with dread, clenching her fists in the sand, _Why can't I just sit here and-_

Before she could talk herself out of it, she jumped forward, out of the lowered crowd, and slammed her shoulder into the guard in the rear of the prince, his dagger raised before she had even thought about moving. As they slammed into the ground, the sand scattered in a crater around them, and she held the dagger to his throat.**  
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End file.
